The Snowball Effect
by Kaitlinbell
Summary: Thanks to a surprise meeting at Paige and Alex's wedding Jay falls into a downward spiral that he never saw coming. Jayco, Palex


I'm alive. Hey. Reunion is in fact being written believe it or not. Even I'm surprised by that. And um, this was just for fun because hey, there is a terribly slim number of jayco's on ff net.

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Marco stepped out onto the lit balcony and sighed loudly in relief, feeling hours worth of strain slowly unwind from his back. The stars were uncharacteristically bright for still being in the city and the moon was almost full. Christmas lights adorned the iron wrought handrail of the balcony, glowing mellow and golden against the jeweled backdrop of Toronto. It was rather picturesque and cliche he decided, pressing his hip lightly into the railing and staring out, drink in hand. He'd never really liked cliches but this one didn't seem so bad. A little romance never hurt anyone.

He took a sip of the wine in his hand as he stared out, watching cars drive by down on the streets, all so small from this height he felt like he could almost pick them up, hold them in his hand. Then again, that was perhaps more the alcohol speaking than any true flight of childish fancy.

Behind him he heard the french doors open, the louder sounds of music and laughter spilling out into his silence before disappearing and becoming muffled within a second as the door closed. Inwardly laughing at the picture he must have made Marco looked up from the headlight brightened streets and turned to see who had come out to join him in his off-the-wall wonderings. Outlined by the warm light spilling in from the glass paneled doors Jay stood looking at him oddly, hair askew and suit loosened, tie gone completely.

"Sup Queer?" he greeted, voice showing the first signs of slurring thanks to too many drinks as he shuffled over next to him to lean against the railing with both hands. Instead of feeling indignant at the name calling for what felt like the first time Marco only mirrored the other man's position, shrugging slightly.

"I'd say I was out here being a wet blanket but somehow I doubt you'd give a care no matter what I said."

Jay turned his head just enough to favor the shorter man with a look, stark shadows jumping across his face in odd patterns, eyebrows sardonically raised. "You're probably right."

Smiling instead of scowling Marco lifted himself up from where he had been resting on his elbows and instead moved to one of the iron benches, dropping down tiredly and tugging at his bow tie until it was finally off. Wrapping the cloth around his fingers he looked up just as slyly. "Color me surprised."

He had expected the man who had ridiculed him in high school to simply rebuff his comment with silence or atleast a witty comeback. Those were expected reactions, normal ones. But when Jay moved away from the railing as well and moved to sit next to him Marco allowed himself to feel surprised. "Do you know what surprises me? Being here...watching my ex-girlfriend marry your friend and being happy," Jay finally said placing his elbow on the back of the bench and resting his head in his hand.

Marco could say he was even more surprised at the other's frank honesty. It had well...never been Jay's strong point to say the least. He nervously glanced back towards the doors, seeing the nicely dressed men and women inside dancing, occasionally catching sight of Paige and Alex dancing away happily. He sighed, turning back to Jay. "Can't say I really saw it coming either. Tonight's been full of surprises I guess."

Jay snorted next to him, moving to scratch at the back of his head, hair flying and tangling and altogether becoming even more of a floppy mess than at it already had been. "What's eating you?" he said on a drunken snicker. "You're far too gay to be so mopey."

Pointing towards the doors, Marco sighed catching on to a familiar blonde head. "Paige's brother. We've been on again, off again for the past two years now. Just happened this week we're off." He bit down on his tongue, letting his head fall back against the brick wall a bit painfully, relishing in the feeling. "I guess nothing depresses you more than going to a wedding single and unwanted. That's all."

"Try being in love with one of the brides," he snarled back, eyes suddenly spitting fire as he regarded the Italian man, and Marco flinched a bit at the look, properly chastised. As a form of apology he hastily changed the subject, letting his eyes fall to his nap.

"What have you been up to? I only hear bits and pieces from Alex," he finally asked.

Feeling as much as hearing Jay move next to him, Marco allowed his eyes to gaze up from beneath his lashes while still keeping his head downcast. He seemed to be scowling at the wall opposite them and he had begun tapping his fingers against the back of the bench. "Not a whole lot. A few months after Lexxi left her parents place to go live with Paige I left as well. I like her family...believe it or not. She hates them both so much...especially Chet. But I dunno. I guess she doesn't realize how lucky she is to even have the dysfunctional family she does. But eventually I hated being there without her. Packed up whatever crap I had and moved to Wasaga."

Marco felt his brows furrow in something close to sympathy though he had no idea why he should feel sorry for Jay. He wasn't a nice person...didn't deserve nice sentiments. But somehow...right now he seemed almost human, almost vulnerable. "What did you do there?"

Jay shrugged, chancing a glance at Marco and felt his smirk from earlier come climbing back through his miserable thoughts. "I got a job at one of the auto shops up there. After a couple of months of living with Sean's parents I finally had enough to go buy my own lunchbox of a house and I'm still rotting there. I think tonight's the first time I've actually gotten drunk around actual people," he joked.

His voice sounded somewhat sad Marco realized vaguely and the hero in him willed it away as hard as it could. "I guess it'll do you good to be around people then. I mean...you've known Alex for what? Three...four years?"

"Sixteen," Jay muttered beside him, the word thick on his tongue as he looked at the smaller man. Marco however looked back in shock. He would never have guessed the two had actually grown up together. But then...perhaps that wasn't so very out of place either.

"Tonight must be tough,"he finally managed to say with sympathy.

Marco supposed he had been expecting some acknowledgement to his effort to comfort the other man...anything. But what he really hadn't seen coming was Jay springing up from the bench as gracefully as someone tipsy could and turning to grin at him in a clever way. The smile suited him. "Screw this melodrama. We're at a party, we better as hell act like it," he said with an almost too excited voice, disappearing into the building and reappearing with what appeared to be a freshly opened bottle of wine and two glasses.

Jay moved to take his spot back next to Marco, side warm against his own. With sloppy, yet practiced movements Jay finally was able to pour them both glasses before letting his tap against Marco's. The small crystalline sigh of crystal on crystal still curling around them they both drank deeply, resisting the urge to smile around their glasses.

"So," the blue eyed man started as he drained his glass entirely too quickly. "has anyone ever told you you're disgustingly short?"

Feeling the alcohol come rushing through his head Marco could only smile sheepishly and shrug. "Yeah, several times. Though typically it's not referred to as disgusting."

"Well everything about you is disgusting isn't it?" the former bully kept going, though the smirk on his face told more than his words. It was all some big joke for him. And for tonight atleast, Marco honestly didn't give a damn.

Leaning over heavily in an attempt to speak conspiratorially Marco whispered in the vague direction of Jay's ear. "Well if you were my father then yes. Everything about me is absolutely...gross," he managed, his vocabulary suddenly deserting him.

Jay snorted, lazily sliding his arm across the back of the bench, sweat warm arms heavy against Marco's shoulder blades. "If you want...perfect honesty...I don't see what the big deal is," he said jokingly, sputtering small laughs into his glass. Marco however was far from laughing at his admission.

"What do you mean exactly?"

"Exactly what I said," he sulked, looking off at the jeweled city lights as if in deep thought. Considering the alcohol Marco doubted it was too terribly deep. "I might have given you and Homochuck shit but I never really gave a fuck one way or another. I just liked watching you two get mad. Well...more Homochuck I guess. S'like I had insulted his mother not his sex life. And I only gave you shit because you were up against Lexxi and it didn't look like she'd win that stupid president gig she wanted so bad."

Marco felt his eyebrows knit together in intoxicated confusion. "So...it was nothing personal? Nothing prejudiced all this time?"

"S'right."

"Oh."

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"And then this guy looks me straight in the eye, s'got a shiner the size of Canada, and goes 'atleast I've still got my car!' I fucking laughed my ass of at the bastard," Jay roared loudly to the night air thick with alcohol laughs. Marco, pink faced and still giggling, glanced at Jay out of the corner of his eyes.

"He said that after his friend did that to him? That had to suck!" he snickered.

Both men had gone far past a couple of glasses each and were barely standing now. Their clothes had all been pulled and tugged and taken off until they both stood in the white button downs beneath the suit jackets, first few buttons on both free to let more cool air brush their fevered skin. In the room beyond guests had slowly leaked out, feet hurting and giggling, completely unknown by the other two men out on the balcony. Their respective company had been enough for the better part of three hours.

"There you two are!" a giddy female voice breezed into their comfortable little world. The two off-balance men looked up from their conversation with huge grins to see Paige standing in the door way, an apparently very drunk Alex standing behind her with her arms securely and almost obscenely around her waist. "We've been wondering where you two had run off through the whole party."

Jay only shrugged next to him, and Marco could only grin a bit stupidly.

"We're heading off to the hotel for the night before our plane to Hawaii leaves in the morning so you two should probably be heading on your way as well. The cleaning crew's coming in about twenty," Paige warned, moving forward to hug Marco goodnight, and then strangely moved to hug Jay as well in her tipsy good humor. Jay however didn't seem to mind and kissed her on the cheek as she backed away.

"Night, ladies. Alex...show her a good time," he teased, leaning against the railing in an almost insolent way. Marco found himself smiling at him with something close to admiration at that.

As the two women shuffled off in a very odd jumble of awkward limbs and loud laughter Marco watched Jay stretch hugely, strong arms high above his head and shirt pulled tight across his chest. He swallowed nervously, draining his glass. Finally Jay groaned and dropped back to the flat of his feet tiredly. "Well queer, I guess I should...go. I've got one long ass drive ahead of me."

Somehow all the sudden, whether it be the alcohol talking or insanity, Marco really didn't want Jay to go. He allowed a long drawn out silence to stretch comfortably between them before smiling shyly and glancing up at the other man, fingers running nervously over the top of his glass, creating a small crystalline echo. "You want a place to sleep tonight? No sense driving all that way," he breathed wit a small bashful smile.

"Actually...that sounds good," he muttered, draining the whole contents of his glass in a single long drink, setting it down on the ground, almost losing his balance but still managing to stand back upright.

Marco beamed. "Come on, we can take your car. I can get mine later."

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Mm, fuck, Jay's mind threw out as he pressed the shorter man further into the wall, mouth hot against his and hands flying positively everywhere. The cool night air from the open door of the house drifted over his feverish neck and the sensation in contrast was beautiful. The Italian man currently wiggling against the wall and his own body moaned into his mouth and frighteningly adept hands were already undoing his belt at an almost frantic pace. No girl he'd ever been with, even Amy, had ever been so eager and it sent sparks of want sliced electricity racing down his spine.

"Fuck, that feels nice," he breathed, shaking fingers already unbuttoning the clean pressed shirt beneath his fingers. "What am I doing?"

Marco didn't have an answer, but as he pulled back his eyes held a heated question. Mind muddled and euphoric and practically swimming in heat and feeling Jay leaned forward to draw him into another languorous kiss.

The answer was most definitely yes.

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Jay woke to the feeling that an ice pick had just been rather ruthlessly shoved into his head via his ear. Sitting up, feeling very clean blankets fall from his chest to pool in lap he leaned forward, hugging his head as he battled against the intense nausea that was becoming more noticeable as he woke up. He was never drinking again. This time for sure.

As he breathed in as much as he could he was slowly beginning to realize he was not in his little lunch box in Wasaga at all. The air smelled too clean and the bed felt too warm. Almost dreading what his eyes would find he let them fearfully blink open, immediately coming to rest on a thin olive shoulder.

Panic instantaneously flashed through his whole body and it was only by pure luck he wasn't sick all over the floor. Hurrying as much as he could while still being careful not to wake up the smaller man he eased out of the bed, the sick feeling intensifying with every sign he encountered, namely the fact that he was naked in the high school 'gay kid's' bed. Practically flying around the room as silently as possible he located his clothes, practically tracking them all the way to the front door, tugging them all on as he went, still fighting against the near blinding pulse still drumming at the back of his eyes.

As he finally reached salvation in the form of the front door he stepped outside into the blaring sunlight, already running double time to his car parked innocently by the curb.

Breathing heavily his hand not holding onto his suit jacket and shoes fell to his car door before he finally felt himself calm down, if only for a moment's time. Turning almost fearfully he took in the large house with flurrying blue eyes, taking in the empty windows and drab exterior almost as if waiting for it to come alive and chase after him. But seconds ticked by and no sign of life...house or Marco...showed.

With a soul deep sigh Jay threw himself into his car, starting the ignition and speeding off down the suburban street. He could still feel last night's sweat sticking to his skin guiltily.

He practically itched from it.

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For the next two months Jay did a bang up job at attempting to forget that night ever happened. That afternoon he'd made the long...long...drive back to Wasaga in his beat up car very purposefully _not_ contemplating how Marco was planning on getting his car back and very purposefully _not_ thinking about whether he thought their drunken encounter meant anything. Because it hadn't. It just meant Jay really and truly _was_ that stupid and he wouldn't slip up like that again. He wasn't gay. Never had been. And he certainly wasn't going to start because he couldn't handle his alcohol.

The next day he'd gone his bored way to the auto shop he worked at and worked hours straight in complete silence. Not a single one of his co-workers dared to come into his forced isolation, only let him work harder than he ever had before, fixing two cars during that day in almost record time. When he arrived back home, utterly exhausted and numb, he fell into his musty and stained recliner, allowing himself to finally feel for the first time that day.

With the glow of the television behind his closed eyes he fell into a deep sleep.

He had never remembered his dreams before, and that night had been no different.

But the next day, and every morning after he couldn't shake the feeling he had now started to think about something when his eyes closed.

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Pink, Jay decided, was an absolutely disgusting color.

Outside of the closed off section of the restaurant three putrid pink balloons bobbed with the AC, loudly proclaiming for all those dumb enough not to figure it out that here was where Alex's birthday party was. Courtesy of her newly wedded wife Paige Michalchuk no doubt.

It was all so vomit worthy.

He had been working on his excuses to miss this event all week, but when Paige called him, all bubbly forcefulness and bitchy well-meaning, his plans of being sick or being busy or being attacked by sea monkeys all died on his tongue. Instead of sitting at home very pointedly not touching himself to the thought of the boy he once picked on (which was habit nowadays), he now found himself in the warmly lit restaurant Paige had specified that looked about ten light years out of his price range.

Leave it to Alex to marry a rich one.

Bitch.

Amid his inner fuming rant he heard the glass doors at the front of the building open and close, letting a heavy humid breeze blast against his turned back. Jay shuddered at the sensation but kept his eyes steadfastedly glued to those horrid pink balloons. He realized he must look ridiculous, standing out in the middle of the room with no outward indication of whether he was going to step forward or away at all. In truth he was still halfway through deciding.

A gentle tap on his shoulder brought him grumpily back to the present, and as he turned around to stop blocking the path he suddenly wished even more ferverently that he had stayed home.

Marco Del Rossi stood right behind him, Homochuk standing so close by he might be suffocating the Italian. One still grossly muscular arm was wrapped around his waist and they looked for all the world like yet another vomit worthy couple.

"Sorry, Excuse m-...Jay!"

As the shorter man recognized him his already large brown eyes widened yet more, and flashes of recognition and heated memory passed across his face. Jay remained quiet, unable to formulate a response beyond "What the hell have you done to me?"

It was Paige's brother that broke their terrified staring match, nudging the Italian forward. "Come on, love. Before Paige sends out a search party." And with a final meaningful glance over his shoulder Marco disappeared.

Now faced with the view of those disgraceful balloons yet again, Jay heaved a sigh so heavy he was sure some of his weary soul flew out of his body with it. This was _exactly_ why Jay hadn't wanted to show up to this.

Marco had looked much better than he had at Alex's wedding. Instead of that too large monkey suit he had walked up in form fitting jeans and a simple red button down, both of which were obviously chosen to show off his better physical attributes as opposed to his weaknesses. For someone who had secretly been discarding the many layers of a tuxedo in his mind for the better part of three months, such little obstacles suddenly made his already too vivid imagination almost spontaneously orgasm. What a mess that would be.

Then there was the matter of that blonde neanderthal that had been so firmly leeched to his side. Since when were those two cozy? Last he checked the Italian had been looking for a shoulder to cry on out on the balcony. Or wait, hadn't he mentioned something about being on again, off again? What kind of pathetic person put up with that?

"The kind that have no one else."

Jay whirled around, barely suppressing a small girlish squeak, which of course he'd deny later. It was with a strange sense of deja vu and a passing thought as to why people kept sneaking up on him that Jay found Alex behind him, looking every bit the birthday girl in new clothes. Though her expression was serious, he detected a hint of a smile in her eyes that belied her happiness at seeing him there.

Though embarrassed at having apparently been speaking out loud, Jay was humbled to see that look. Against whatever trepidation he might have had at coming here for other reasons he still loved Alex dearly, and was now glad he hadn't missed that look of long held affection she had saved for him.

To his surprise Alex stepped across the short distance between them to place a platonic kiss on his lips before stepping back and looping her arm through his own. All the actions screamed Michalchuk influence to him and he nearly gagged, but feeling her warm arm tucked gently under his own kept his disgust at bay.

Realizing his inner argument over Marco's love life had, not only been broadcasted aloud, but with an audience, he cast a wary look up at his raven haired friend, following up her statement in what he hoped was a nonchalant voice.

"I'm sure the queer could find plenty of others to date that wouldn't treat him like absolute shit."

Alex landed a small playful swat onto his shoulder. "That person you're referring to happens to be my brother-in-law and they're trying to make their relationship work, which is more than I can say for you."

Her words, though well meant, hit something in Jay that was unidentifiable. Whether it be his fear of her realizing just why in the hell he happened to care about the other man's love life or because she finally took note of his lack of dating in the past few years. Whatever reason his traitorous mind decided to cling on to, her statement unaccountably stung. After all, he himself didn't know why he wasn't here with some slutty blonde thing on his arm instead of his married lesbian best friend, or why he was stupidly obsessed with a gay man whom he had an accidental encounter with. He was perfectly straight and hardly rough on the eyes. And yet...

"They're not making it work," he retorted sullenly after a short pause, feeling any and all good humor he might have had disappear after his brief moment of depressing, romantic insight. "They're just going to wake up in ten years after yet another fight and realize they're married to someone who doesn't think they're good enough and that they've wasted their time and their life."

"Mmm, so insightful," Alex hummed sarcastically at his side, finally tugging at his arm to pull him into the reserved room.

Jay had nothing to say now, only able to grumble at how utterly worthless his odd, secret protectiveness might be and follow the woman.

The pink balloons almost seemed to wave mockingly at him as he walked past.

Jay mentally flipped them off, ready to go find as much alcohol as possible.

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"So did your phone get disconnected again?"

Alex sat warm at his side, tipsy and smiling somewhat drunkenly. Though the evening had started with what could possibly be described as the most awkward moment of eye contact known to mankind, it had progressed to something close to comfortable, and as Alex's favorite brand of hard rock music bounced off the finely lit walls of the restaurant Jay decided he was well and truly content for the first time in the last few months.

Working through the lovely numbness his mind now was thanks to the several bottles of beer now littering the table in front of him, Jay could only scowl in an almost childish way.

"My phone's perfectly fine. I don't answer it anymore," he grumbled, only scowling harder at the way the girl knit her eyebrows together in confusion.

Sighing, she downed the remaining contents of her own drink before leveling a glare at him. "Well stop. I tried calling you some twenty times after the wedding and was beginning to think you'd died or moved away until tonight. Thanks for making me worry, you big bastard," she said. Though her eyes were hard her voice still belied that same gentle affection they always seemed to hold for him, even when her words were spitting fire in his direction.

Jay could only look sheepish, staring down into his beer as if it could possibly help him out here. But how did one explain what had happened that night so long ago? Hell he thought about it every night, whether by his own will or by complete accident as his thoughts strayed, and even he did not have the answer to why he was afraid to answer his phone. After all…how slim were the chances Marco would be any more brave than him?

Turning to face the raven haired girl he could only nod stonily but obediently, allowing his gaze to quickly change directions out onto the people dancing intimately to the now slow music filtering in. His eyes caught almost instantly onto Marco across the room. The man's face was buried into Paige's brother's neck in what looked to be a very practiced way and the blonde's arms seem to hold him with such care.

It was all so sickening, he decided. Because that hold was a farce, where the Italian's comfort was not. Dylan's eyes wandered across several men over Marco's shoulder and it took all Jay had not to throw his now empty bottle at his head.

Suddenly Alex's quietly fierce voice broke his angry reverie. "Why are you still obsessing over them?"

With a feeling almost approaching embarrassing guilt, Jay felt his lips thin into a tight line. But whether by magnetism or sheer stupidity, his did not leave the dancing couple. "Because I still say he's setting himself up. He's been absolutely stupid."

"You'd think you actually cared about the 'queer,' Jay. What would all your old ravine buddies say?" she teased, letting a thin hand come to rest on his forearm. Jay recognized the goading for what it was….praise.

She was so very lucky that he liked her.

"I don't care about the nancy little homo. I care when people show more than an average amount of absolute idiocy around me. He knows better."

Alex only grinned cattily at his side, looking far too much like Paige than he cared to process, drunk or sober. "The lady doth protest too much, I believe. But don't worry, I won't tell anyone you actually have a heart. I'd hate for them to die of shock, though I think Marco knows already."

Feeling a tiny jolt of shock slide down into his stomach, Jay hastily glared at her. What did she know? "What are you on about?"

"The night of my wedding…you two seemed to be, dare I say it, getting along. You were smiling, even if you may not admit it now. Not to mention we all know that Marco's car stayed in the parking lot that night. He's been quiet since you left," she paused, as if she really hadn't been thinking about this a whole lot, or at least not as much as her sarcastic voice would let on. "I think he's sort of missed you, for whatever crazy reason. I wouldn't miss you, that's for sure."

Without missing a beat he reached over and roughly mussed her hair, causing the previously shining, pin straight locks to stick up every which way from her head. "He probably has a crush on me," he chuckled, though inside he was a mess at the very prospect of the truth behind his words.

"Oh please, you're so not his type."

Stung, he stopped his hand that was about to mess her hair yet again and looked at her with what he hoped looked like very fake hurt. "What's his type?"

"Tall, chivalrous, and golden? Hell if I know, I hardly have heart to hearts with him over what guys he wants to make out with. That's typically my wife's job."

Instead of allowing himself to continue on with this odd sense of…inferiority, that was creeping up completely unfounded, he pushed a smile onto his face. "You like being able to call her that don't you?"

"Far more than I'd ever let you in on."

"Shame."

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He hadn't planned on talking to Paige's brother than night. In fact, he hadn't really even planned on acknowledging the prick's existence. But as it were, about an hour after his odd conversation with Alex when she left to go dance with her wife, Jay found the blonde man moving to sit next to him as if he associated with high school rivals everyday. It was like the entire world who once hated him decided now was a good time to mess with him.

He hoped they all choked on a knife.

Michalchuk senior ambled his way over, all but swaggering. The clever smirk on his face as he dropped gracelessly into the chair at his side was enough to make Jay want to spit at him. "Still think you're straight, Jay?" the man goaded as a form of greeting, words sounding distinctly slurred and much like his own voice.

Glaring to the point he was surprised his head wasn't hurting, Jay turned so his eyes landed on Dylan next to him, sprawled out in his chair happy as fuck and looking as if he owned the world. And even disregarding how much of a bastard Paige's brother was, the answer to that question, unlike several years ago, had seemed to have changed rather substantially. Not that Michalchuk needed to know that his little fucktoy had converted him.

Fuck, since when was he gay? his drunk mind threw out. He could feel his anger's figurative scowl on him. He wasn't gay, it reminded him. Sex was sex. And so, with more confidence than he probably rightfully should have, Jay answered just as smugly as he could. "Yep. Better luck next time, Homochuk. And what about you? Still a cheating queer?" He hadn't meant to say the cheating bit, realizing too late that it sounded that he cared more about Dylan's moral value than his preferences. Gods but he was slipping tonight.

"I haven't cheated on him once since we got back together, Hogart," the blonde replied, looking the picture of indignant rage. For some reason that look made Jay want to laugh in a very annoying manner.

With a movement far more graceful than it out to be considering how many drinks he'd had, Jay reached behind him to grab another beer off the refreshments table, eyes never leaving the matching set of blazing blue across from him. "Of course not, you break it off every time you feel like getting laid by someone else and then come crawling back when it's over. He just hasn't caught on yet."

"Hey Dylan, your sister is looking for you," another voice cut in just as the blonde's mouth open to start yelling. As if by a magical force, his mouth snapped shut and his eyes rose obediently to the speaker. Jay turned as well, already knowing who'd be there. Marco stood in front of the two looking utterly danced out, slightly out of breath and eyes bright and gleaming wickedly.

Feeling as if ice had dropped into his stomach Jay quickly dropped his eyes down to the bottle in his hand, swallowing audibly. His mind was completely gone he was swiftly beginning to realize, numbed and dumbed down by the alcohol and suddenly fear was gripping him. What if he said something? Hell, what if he did something?

Instead of seeing him move, Jay felt Marco take the seat Dylan had vacated in search of his sister through the party, and the faint heat emanating from the shorter man's arm into his own was distracting beyond anything he could ever describe. Thoughts of just how much he hated the man beside him raced through his head, just how much he'd thought of him the past three months. It was an endless litany of drunken thoughts that he felt powerless to stop, and as his gaze lifted from his lap and onto Marco he very much wished he couldn't see at all, because the Italian was smiling at him. He was grinning sweetly with his windblown hair and exhilarated eyes, looking far more good than anyone had any right to. "How've you been?" he asked almost chirpily, and Jay felt himself swallow nervously yet again as the man copied his earlier action and lean over the back of his chair to grab a drink, his shirt twisting and pressing tightly at the awkward angle and leaving little to the imagination.

Still not quite registering the pleasant way Marco had greeted him, he could only stare at him for several moments before finally shaking himself and shrugging moodily. The other man had no doubt caught his wandering eyes. "Right miserable, thanks," he muttered, unable to censor his words in his current state.

"Why? Are things okay in Wasaga?"

What the hell, Jay's thoughts all but roared in his head. Turning an angry and confused look to Marco, Jay growled. "What are you on about Del Rossi? The last time I saw you, in case you've forgotten, which I can only guess is the case, you were naked. And you ask me why I've been feeling like shit lately?"

Marco's eyes had grown wide as Jay continued with his story and Jay was glad to see Marco hadn't forgotten in the slightest. But before he could call the man on the fact, the Italian was smiling at him in a superior way that made him want to slap it right off his face. Or kiss him until it disappeared. Or...anything. It just didn't belong on his face. "We were drunk, Jay. You were probably curious. Stuff like that happens all the time. Don't dwell on it all the time."

"What?" Jay said on a deadly whisper, eyes narrowing and centering on Marco as if he'd morphed into a bombing target.

Marco's expression however, stayed just as fakely cheery despite Jay's sudden rage. "Lot's of straight guy's are curious."

It was as if someone had lit a match to his veins as his blood began boiling under his skin. He could feel his hands begin to clench into fists as he stared at the shorter man in swiftly dawning horror. In the back of his mind he realized he didn't want to have this conversation. Not now, not when he had no idea how to even look at the man, let alone what to say to him. So, with one last heated glare, Jay stood unsteadily, stalking off into the party. He'd only gotten five steps before a small hand grabbed onto his upper arm wit ha surprisingly gentle hold, causing him to stop mid-step as if compelled. He was reminded of the way Dylan had hopped to attention so readily earlier just as the sound of Marco's voice.

"Jay, stop. What's wrong? Did I say something?"

Before he could even stop himself, Jay was whirling around in the Italian's grasp and screaming into his face with months of frustration, and finally said the exact thing he'd been denying.

"I'M NOT JUST CURIOUS!"

Not even waiting to see Marco's expression he turned and stomped out of the party, only vaguely aware of bumping shoulders with a shocked looking Dylan on the way out.

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The next day Alex had called his "house" and for the first time he actually answered the phone. After the other nights' disastrous encounter he didn't feel like he needed to avoid it anymore. She had sounded worried about his dramatic exit but happy he was actually answering his phone now. Unfortunately he had not thought of an appropriate story as to why he left that night and was forced to simply stonewall any and all of her questions. As far as Alex knew Marco had come on to him and he'd left disgusted. Which for now, he didn't mind her believing.

It was so much easier to deal with than the truth.

The truth was, he was now cold sober...and his admission was still ringing in his head. And the worst part of it all was that it rang with honesty. Even now in the safety of his own home with Marco a few cities away. With those simple words uttered and figuratively out of the way, the implications of it all began following him everywhere. When the guy's at the shop commented on "that queer" or "that disgusting homo shit" Jay would always drop his gaze back down the engine he was working on and bite his cheek as hard as he could. It took all he had at times not to lash out at them all, to call them names right back. For once in his life he realized what it must have been like for Marco in high school when he taunted him.

Though it was not as if he was gay. He wasn't. He could stand by that statement without batting an eye. The truth of it really was...that it was Marco that he was dealing with, and Marco only. Homochuck did nothing for him beyond make him want to vomit and Sean was about as sexually appealing to him as Mr. Simpson.

No...it was all Marco. And that was really the whole problem as well. Marco with his on again, off again and curiosity. He was denying everything that went on in his life. For once in his life Jay was actually the one ahead in something emotional as fucked up as that was, and he wasn't really sure if he wanted to knock sense into the man or not. That meant admitting it all over again, and he didn't know if he had it in him.

But the way Marco had tried to stop him at the party, asking him what was wrong, something about that kept his mind constantly centered and orbiting the man as if he were the center of his sick, sad, little world.

It was feelings like those that he still couldn't figure out, and he seriously doubted he ever would. But only one thing in his life really made sense right now, and it was the one thing he wished so ardently had never come to pass.

The only curiosity he held anymore was what it would be like to do it again.

-------------------------------

Alex and Paige's house was what he would call quaint. It was smallish and decorated like it belonged in a Disney movie with it's sweet white and blue paint and tire swing. It even had shutters and flower boxes for God's sake.

Alex had married Martha Stewart.

He hoped she hated the house as much as he did.

Summoning up his courage he took a deep, gratifying breath before walking up the walkway towards the laugh of a house. With every step he could feel his anxiousness rise another notch. He knew who would be inside.

Now that he had begun answering his phone he was hearing a lot of Alex. For some reason, now that she was married and living with her wife Alex seemed to want to talk more than she ever had before, and for his part, Jay really didn't mind. He had found himself needing to have human contact lately as well. He found by now that his long held not completely platonic love he had always held for his best friend had waned to almost nothing now. He looked at her as exactly what she was, a friend, a confidant, and someone he could never give up, even to Paige Michalchuk. Not that he'd ever admit it any of that.

He had gone through a month of her phoning him late in the night to simply emotionally dump. Apparently her and Paige had been fighting for several weeks about children by that point. He had understood Alex's want to not have any. Jay knew Alex was afraid of becoming her mother and many sleepless nights on the phone in which he repeatedly told her how much 'dumb bitch' she was, he finally felt as if she realized that would never happen.

However, for his efforts, he was now here at their house and hating every second of it.

They had planned a baby shower, because...Paige was pregnant. Jay had gotten more specifics than necessary about sperm banks and donors and blah blah to the point he honestly wanted to strangle Alex and her baby talk. But now that he had begun to reinitiate his friendship with Alex so to speak he knew he was expected to make an appearance at this party. As best friend it was his duty.

As he knocked on the front door he was ready to damn duty to hell. To his surprise and shocked pleasure Marco stood on the other side of the door, all smiles as he was ready to greet the newcomer. As his eyes caught onto Jay however his expression turned from joy to fearful graveness quicker than lightning. For what felt like years they stared each other down, and Jay felt as if all the crap he'd been going through the last few months were slowly disappearing and he was becoming overcome with a fiery feeling that he could only vaguely remember. He was sure now...

It was Marco who spoke first after than endless quiet, eyes still wide and conveying an apology Jay hadn't expected. "Jay, about the party, I'm just...I'm sorry. For what I said. I wasn-"

What Marco wasn't doing that night Jay really didn't give a shit about. All that was fully processing through his numb mind was that Marco had apologized...and that he understood _exactly_ what Jay had meant at Alex's birthday, and Marco apparently still wanted to talk to him, still wanted _him_, even after that admittance. It was without even a second thought that Jay lurched forward, pulling the shorter, still talking man, into a heated kiss, pouring all the hopeless frustration, and anger, and want he'd been building up for ages into it.

It didn't even take a full second for Marco to respond, small hands eagerly moving to wrap around his neck and pull him further forward, and it was as if the world was alive and breathing and revolving again since that night of Alex's wedding. Jay could taste the lack of denial in Marco's kisses and it was like an aphrodisiac, just pushing him further and further forward until he feared simply melting into the other man from the indescribable heat clouding his mind.

Pulling away just enough to breathe raggedly Jay huffed a small throaty laugh against Marco's cheek. "Fuck it's been too long since I've done that." In response Marco only pulled him forward into another equally sincere and bruising kiss, letting his lips show his understanding more than his words could even begin to articulate. With only half a mind, feet began moving, guiding them both towards the stairs with practiced ease.

Behind them the door stood wide open.

Paige and Alex stared from their position on the couch with their jaws practically on the floor. With one desperate look to her wife Alex burst into helpless laughter, doubling over and gasping about how she'd known. She'd known it all along.

Jay, upstairs, honestly couldn't care less.

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